


One Unchanging Thing

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-06
Updated: 2006-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ginny has a special memory of Molly and Arthur - one that makes her smile and know that there is one unchanging thing in her life.





	One Unchanging Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Just a short little bit that popped into my head. ^_^  


* * *

I have this special memory from my childhood that I never want to forget. Of course, at the time I thought it was horrible but now I treasure it. It reminds me that no matter what happens to me, my husband, or my world, there is one unchanging thing that I am sure of: my parents’ love never missed, faltered, or failed. Even through trying circumstances, it stayed.   
  
It was fall and I was seven. I know those two facts because the twins hadn't started Hogwarts yet, and I had just celebrated my birthday two months before. It was late at night. I was thirsty and had forgotten to bring a glass of water up to my room with me. I crept down to the kitchen, trying to keep the stairs from creaking. As I skipped the bottom step that usually gave a resounding squeak, I heard a soft voices coming from the living room. I padded quietly to the door and peeked around the corner. I could see the top of Dad's head over his big squishy chair. It was just beginning to go bald at the crown. Mum was bending over the fire, waving her wand in a sweeping motion toward the coals. From my position I could just barely see them turn a slightly purple color. Then Dad did something my seven-year-old self squinched her eyes up at - he swatted Mum's bum. To my horror, she didn't reproach him but actually _wiggled_ it a little and laughed. She straightened up and turned toward him. I could tell immediately she looked different. Her lips were tipped up in a smile that we children never saw. The lines in her face were smoothed out by the firelight. Her hair, which had fallen out of its bun, brushed over her shoulders. She didn't look like my Mum. She looked like a young woman. I saw Dad's hand reach out and grab hers, pulling her over and onto his lap. I heard him say something that oddly sounded like "I just adore you, Mollywobbles." That was all my seven-year-old ears could take without inducing gagging, so I stole back up to my room without my water.  
  
Now I understand why Mum looked the way she did and why Dad did what he did. After all those years of being married, having rows and children and debts, they still loved each other. They were still crazy about each other. Dad made Mum feel like she was a young woman. She brought out Dad's playful, adoring side. They remembered what it was like to fall in love. Then again, I don't think they ever fell out of it.  
  
We were all over for lunch earlier this week. Somehow we all still fit into that little ramshackle house, even with all the children now. While the kids were out in the garden with their cousins, I walked into the kitchen to grab an extra plate. Before I left, I happened to glance into the seemingly empty living room. I could see Dad's head rising over the chair, now almost completely bald with a ring of gray around it. And there, close to his, was Mum's head, with her legs swinging just above the floor. I could have sworn I heard him mumbling something about "Mollywobbles." I smiled.


End file.
